


Heavy in Your Arms

by Lozenge_Bean



Category: Florence + the Machine
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort, F/F, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt, Romance, So Sappy, anxiety attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lozenge_Bean/pseuds/Lozenge_Bean
Summary: After a particularly horrible interview, Florence panics a bit and Isabella does her best to comfort. Fluffy as heck!





	Heavy in Your Arms

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first "real person" fic so plz be gentle.
> 
> Also based on an interview I watched recently that was so uncomfy and really horrible my heart actually ached for Florence. So this may just be a coping mechanism to placate my own emotions in response l o l.

“Thank you again, Florence. We really enjoyed having you.” The interviewer smiled, greasily. He was some guy from some radio station, honestly Florence couldn’t remember nor did she really care. The whole sit down was an absolute disaster. The man was beyond rude, practically yelling over her, explaining to her things about her own life that he knew nothing about, and insulting her “lack of vocal control” and offering “much needed” breathing techniques. On top of it all, he brought up the passing of Alexander McQueen, a loss that was only just publicized this morning to Florence during a photoshoot that shook Flo to her core. She was practically shaking trying to hold back tears during the interview, not wanting to give the sleazy interviewer anymore control over her.

Struggling to stand and remove the microphone and mic pack from her white knit sweater and faded jeans, Florence offered a quiet and shaky “Thank you for having me…” and glanced over towards her two companions that accompanied her to this wretched interview, Mairead, her manager, and Isabella. Wonderful and beautiful Isabella, her amazingly supportive and loving girlfriend.

  
“Can I offer you some coffee or tea for the road?” the man asked, looking the tall redhead up and down.

  
Shaking her head and expelling a quivering breath Flo offered a quick “I need some air” before beelining for the exit, desperate to be out of the enclosed space. Arms crossed tight over her chest did very little to quell the impending anxiety attack she knew was coming.

  
Watching Florence go, Mairead let out a quiet sigh and made her way over to the interviewer, offering thanks and being polite, while Isabella grabbed Flo’s belongings and took off after her girlfriend. Stepping out into the frigid November air, Isabella looked up the street, trying to spot the bright red bun Flo was sporting. Making her way down the street, the small blonde stopped when she heard muffled frantic breathing and choked cries coming from around the corner. Turning down the intersecting street, she spotted Florence, sat up against the building, knees pulled tightly to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs and head resting atop knee caps. The redhead was obviously experiencing a pretty intense anxiety attack, her chest heaving and whole body shaking.

  
Isa gently placed her coat and purse against the wall and knelt down next to Flo, gently placing a hand atop her shaking arm.

  
“Flo, love, it’s ok. Please breathe for me, ok?” Taking both of the redheads hands and placing them gently upon her own chest, Isa started breathing deeply and steadily, trying to coach Florence to calm. Florence looked up at Isabella, smudged mascara circled her eyes and tears tracked quickly down her cheeks. Trying to steady her breath, Florence gripped gently onto Isa’s shirt, smoothing her finger over the textured material, never once breaking eye contact with the small girl who was squat in front of her.

  
“Nice and slow just like me. There we go, my darling girl. Good job.” Isa coached, smiling gently nothing that the redhead had started to come down from her panic. This wasn’t the first anxiety attack Florence had experienced with Isabella around. The first time it happened Isa was a bit stunned, but immediately jumped into action, offering just the right amount of comfort and support that Flo needed. “It’s just you and me. You’re all finished with today, we can go home and put some shit show on and cuddle up under the blankets and drink some tea. How nice does that sound?”

  
Florence sighed heavily and offered Isa a gentle smile before she grimaced and wiped gently under her eyes. “I’m sorry…” she mumbled, “I was just… So overwhelmed and… and…”

  
“And nothing.” Isa cut her off. “You did nothing wrong. That man was shit, and he’s lucky I’m not in there chewing his ass out for being an absolute dickwad to you. I mean really, ‘you essentially came from nothing, right love?’… ‘You can definitely benefit from some vocal control techniques, love. Let me explain to you something that I know absolutely jack shit about and act like a god damn expert’, like fuck off you sack of horse shit.”

  
“Isabella, oh my god.” Florence offered her a small smile and shook her head. “I’m sure I’m just overreacting, the McQueen thing just caught me really off guard…”

  
“Why did he need to bring it up anyway?” The blonde moved to sit beside Flo, taking her hand and squeezing tightly. Florence rested her head on her best friends shoulder, gently placing a kiss on the exposed skin. “This is an interview about the Brit Awards and the new album… Like McQueen was definitely a huge deal and it is really sad, but it’s not relevant to the topic that was being discussed. As a professional, he should know better.”

  
Flo whimpered lightly and wiped another errant tear off her cheek. Isa kissed the top of red bangs and gently smoothed back an fly away behind Florence’s ear. “I’m just really nervous,” came the soft and shaky reply.

  
“About what, my love?”

  
“Well obviously people are going to watch this interview and realize, ‘wow this girl really does have no control over her vocals’ or ‘gee, she really did come from nothing, does she deserve… anything?’”

  
“Florence. Absolutely no-“

  
“Or,” the redhead continued. “The interviewer is going to talk to all the other interviewers out there and tell them how rude or emotional or abrasive I am, and then no ones going to want to talk to me, and we’re never going to get any traction or-“

  
“Honey, please.” Isa soothed, gently turning Flo’s face towards her and looking her dead in the eyes. “None of that is going to happen. You’re already nominated for a Brit Award. That’s a big deal, and sounds like plenty of traction to me. Also, who cares what this bugger has to say about you, you are mother fucking Florence Welch for Gods sakes. You’re kind of a big deal.” As if to punctuate her point, Isa leant in and pressed a solid and brief kiss to thin pink lips, trying to convey how much she actually meant those words as well as how much she loves her beautifully emotional person.

  
Melting into the kiss, Florence hummed lightly, and then after a few moments, pulled away gently. Rolling her eyes, Flo snuggled further into Isa’s side, shivering slightly, both from the chill and exhaustion.

  
“Come on, you lanky little popsicle, I’m sure Mairead is finished stroking this douchebags ego and is waiting in the car. I believe I promised a garbage show binge and some cuddles, did I not?”

  
Florence nodded, waiting until Isa stood and allowed for the small blonde to help pull her up off the cold concrete of the sidewalk. Isa wrapped her coat around the taller girls shoulders and tangled their frozen fingers together, walking them towards where the car was parked.

  
Once in the warmed up vehicle, Florence leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. She just wanted to be home, she was beyond exhausted.

  
“Don’t worry Flo, Ok?” Mairead’s voice drifted into the back of the car as she drove, “That guy was a complete and total dick. And the overall interview wasn’t bad at all. It just seems not good because you lived it live, love. Now it’s over and we can move on.”

  
“Thank you, Mairead.” Florence responded, softly. “For everything, always.”

  
Mairead just smiled and glanced over at Isabella, who was sat in the passenger seat. Isa returned the gesture and turned around, placing a gentle hand on Flo’s knee.

  
Once they arrived home, Flo and Isa thanked Mairead and made their way up to Isa’s flat, trudging up two flights of stairs and padding lightly into the apartment. Once shoes and coats were removed, Isa moved to stand in front of her girlfriend, looking up at tired and slightly swollen eyes and smiled gently. Flo wrapped long arms around Isa’s form and hugged her tight, rest her head on top of bleached locks.

  
It blew Florences mind, how much support and stability this tiny person could offer her. She was beyond lucky to have Isa in her life, both as the insanely talented “Isa Machine” as well as just Isabella Summers, Florence Welch’s girlfriend.

  
After a couple beats of silence, Isa trailed her fingers over Flo’s hips and squeezed light, eliciting and high pitched squeal from the taller girl. “Let’s get you into some pajamas, then I want you curled up in my bed under the blankets, with a shitty show ready to go when I get back with two warm cups of camomile, ok?"

  
Letting out a melodic laugh, one that Isa was so relieved to hear so soon after a disastrous afternoon, Florence kissed Isa gently and made her way into the blondes bedroom, gently removing her earrings, letting her hair out of the top knot and shedding her jeans and sweater, donning a way oversized Joy Division shirt. Curling into the fluffy white comforter, Florence inhaled deeply, trying to be consumed by all of Isa’s essence.

  
After the cups of camomile, some biscuits and two or three episodes of Antiques Roadshow was finished, Isa lay spooning Florence, their bare legs tangled together, rubbing gentle circles onto a pale stomach and placing intermittent kisses on an exposed neck.

  
Flo hadn’t shifted around for a bit now and Isa assumed she had fallen asleep, but a soft “Thank you for today,” was uttered from the taller girl. Squeezing Flo tighter to her, Isa hummed and nuzzled the redhead’s neck.

  
“I love you Florence. So so much. I am insanely proud of all that you do, and I will not have that small, nasty man make you feel like shit.”

  
She could feel Florence smile and placed a kiss in the space below her ear and behind her jawline. “I love you Isa. Thank you for loving me, even though I’ve come from nothing, I have no control of my own vocals and I’m an emotional train wreck.”

  
Isa laughed and squeezed a pale hip. “I love you so much, my talented, endearingly emotional, beautiful girl from Camberwell. I love you with all my heart."

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!


End file.
